So I’m the one who cleans the shower at our house. It’s an arrangement borne out of a) The Lovely Rhonda’s bleach allergy, b) the excessive mildewy-ness of our particular shower which necessitates the use of bleach, and c) the fact that TLR is willing to take care of the bill-paying. That last point alone is enough to carry this arrangement pretty far. Guess who usually also mows the lawn and vacuums?
At any rate, I hate scrubbing the tub out. It’s a cruddy job that involves a lot of bending over and grunting, and it’s not like anybody’s going to throw you a party for scraping a layer of mildew off the crappy old chipped tub. But, it’s necessary and so I do it on at least a quarterly basis. DON’T JUDGE
The worst part of the deal is the plastic shower curtain liner. We have a fabric shower curtain and then one of those clear plastic liners you hang inside to keep the fabric one from getting gross. So the inner one gets gross instead, and if I were a better person I would attempt to clean it, but by the time I get around to cleaning the dang shower the liner is pretty far gone. I spring for the two bucks for a new one and problem solved.
Except wrestling that stupid thing off the rings and wrestling a new onto the rings was enough to throw me into a Hulk rage. We had these cheap plastic rings that snapped open and closed, poorly. Ugh.
And I’m elderly, so my vision is starting to get funny. I’m nearsighted with just enough astigmatism to make life interesting, I have the beginnings of cataracts, and just because that wasn’t quite enough fun, I’m getting that irritating thing that happens to old people where I can’t see anything unless it’s either far away or three inches from my nose.
So I’m wrestling with annoying plastic rings, they are above my head, and they are just far enough away that I can’t see them clearly.
SO MUCH FUN OMG.
Cut to this past weekend, wherein I made the pilgrimage to my brother’s New Improved Mormon Stronghold. He and the wife and tater tots just relocated and the new house is a corker, replete with interesting wall treatments, a different color of 80’s shag carpet in every room, and the remnants of a 60’s era intercom system, except here and there where the consoles have been removed in which case there are holes in the walls. I am told the previous owners, the Winslows, enjoyed concealing the holes with strategically placed artwork. Thus such acts of creative decorating are now known as “winslows.”
I was wrapping things up and preparing to leave and managed to locate one of the bathrooms for a little pre-departure visit. In a moment of idleness as I meandered in, I glanced upward toward the top of the shower curtain.
And there they were.
Shower curtain rings, nice ones, with two hooks to hang the shower curtains on. One hook toward the inside of the tub, one toward the outside.
HOOKS. To hang the shower curtains, PLURAL, on. No rings to open and close. No struggling. No cursing. No drama.
Why did I not know these existed before now?
It was like the heavens opened up and a beam of purest white love shot out from the clouds, illuminating the shower curtain hooks while a chorus of angels sang out and unicorns farted glitter all over the bathroom.
Although the glitter might have been from the Winslows.
Naturally I raced to Bed Bath and Beyond All Reason the next morning and bought a set, and this afternoon, barely able to contain my joy, scrubbed the tub out and replaced the shower curtain liner. The rings slipped onto the rod with ease and it felt as if I could practically toss the liner in the air and have it magically land on the hooks, it was so ridiculously easy to put the darn thing up.
It’s the little things, people. God bless us, every one.